


Apprentices

by Cafechan



Series: dark blue - a collection of teen titans short stories [10]
Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Platonic Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 16:48:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cafechan/pseuds/Cafechan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the times when Slade is quiet. Tender. Placing a coaxing hand on their shoulders or lifting their faces to stare into his one piercing eye. That’s when Robin loathes and fears the man the most, and he guesses that Terra feels similarly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apprentices

**Author's Note:**

> Idk how this story works out, I just wanted to somehow make Robin and Terra working for Slade at the same time. It’s short and doesn’t really go anywhere.
> 
> This Robin has also been coerced into a longer term deal than he was originally, but I’m too lazy to work out the details of it; assume that he has some sort of “do what Slade says and the Titans are left alone” deal. Don’t think too hard about it…

Robin doesn’t mind when Slade drones out orders and corrections, fine-tuning his apprentices into the weapons they were never meant to be. Robin has stopped caring about when Slade’s muffled laughter reaches his ears, signifying the birth of another malicious plot; he  _knows_  they’re going to take part in it, whether they like it or not. Robin hardly even flinches on the occasions when Slade lifts an angry hand, violently expressing disappointment in them. During these times, their custodian is calculated. Efficient. Quick to think and quicker to act. Any normal person would find him terrifying in such situations, but Robin is apathetic at best.

It’s the times when Slade is quiet. Tender. Placing a coaxing hand on their shoulders or lifting their faces to stare into his one piercing eye. When he’s close enough that his voice can be felt rumbling through his chest and his breath wafts across their cheeks, warm and distressingly reassuring. That’s when Robin loathes and fears the man the most, and he guesses that Terra feels similarly. He sees the way she shivers when Slade’s voice drops into that gentle, smooth tone, but she’s less resistant to it than he is. That’s to be expected, since she chose this life, whereas Robin is only here out of necessity.

Robin suspects that Terra’s aware that this scenario isn’t what she expected. Her bright-eyed enthusiasm has long since faded into something more akin to resignation, like she knows she’s gotten herself into a stranglehold and there’s no one around to take responsibility for the error other than her. Slade isn’t the misunderstood, good intentioned mentor she had thought he was, and being an apprentice isn’t the empowering role she had hoped it would be. Rather than gaining control over her powers, she feels more like she’s simply handing the reins over to Slade, and that’s disappointing. Of course, Robin is currently in no position to say ‘I told you so.’

-

When Robin’s crumpled silhouette appears in the doorway, Terra glances over his form with consideration and gestures to a bruise that he’s already forgotten about. “You okay?”

Robin reaches up to touch the purple staining his jaw as he sits on the opposite side of the room he and Terra share. The cold cement that meets his back and their nondescript surroundings remind him more of a jail cell than a bedroom. “I’m fine,” he responds, terse and disinterested in conversation, but Terra ignores his sour tone. This conversation is practically a ritual by now.

“You really shouldn’t backtalk him so much during training,” she offers meekly. Her voices lowers into a whisper, which Robin thinks is stupid. He’d be  _surprised_ if he were to ever find out that Slade  _hadn’t_ already bugged this room with top of the line audio equipment. The man’s never made mention of the conversations that transpire in private between his two apprentices, but Robin isn’t a fool. If the room isn’t bugged, then it must be their suits. In any case, the boy doesn’t believe for a second that there’s a single word they speak that is not heard by Slade. “We both suffer for your attitude, you know. And, well… I’m worried he might do something more serious to you someday.”

“I appreciate the concern, Terra, but let me handle things my way.” The irate boy folds his arms tightly across his chest and tucks his legs up, as if forming a protective barrier with his own limbs. He often sleeps in such a position, and Terra always thinks to herself about how uncomfortable he looks. It’s just another one of the subtle ways he tries to be defiant, she supposes as she rests her head against an inviting pillow. Slade’s provisions aren’t exactly luxurious, but Wintergreen always leaves them plenty of blankets and well-prepared meals, and Terra’s never been one to take amenities for granted.

“This doesn’t have to be as miserable as you make it out to be, Robin,” she says, neither reproachful nor admonitory—just thoughtful. “This could be an opportunity. Slade only wants us to reach our full potentials.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Robin mutters, clearly unconvinced, “but no matter what kind of spin you put on this, we’re prisoners. Slade is using us.”

There’s more words hanging dangerously at the tip of his tongue, but he clamps his mouth shut and reminds himself that no conversation is sacred here. He has a feeling that Terra’s too far gone at this point for anything he says to convince her otherwise, and he prefers not to risk punishment two days in a row. He’s a boy wonder, but he’s still woefully human and everything that such a frail species entails.

Terra gives him a weak ghost of a smile before rolling over and flipping off the lights.

“Good night, Robin.”


End file.
